


slit my throat (and call me boy wonder)

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Chan centric, Crimes & Criminals, M/M, Murder, criminal organization au, genderfluid!jeonghan, just a lot of FUCKED UP SHIT, selective mute!woozi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-04 11:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10276055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: call it stockholm syndrome, but chan calls it being a family.





	1. the stench of blood isn't soothing at 6am in the morning

**Author's Note:**

> aka the local misadventures of chan with a criminal organization group.

the drifting stench of metal and rot is more of a wake-up call than the aroma of sizzling bacon on the pan or annoying ringing of an alarm clock could ever be. its the only thing that manages to stir chan from his rock-like slumber in the mornings, the only thing he is willing to open his eyes to.

with a faulty door - wood deteriorating and barely hanging onto rusty hinges, inflicted holes by a gun's bullets (the capsules are broken and scrunched, but kept on one of the shelves as if they were trophies) and slashed until thin - it was easy for the scent of it to waft into his room.

quickly, the boy pushes off the covers on his body and jumps off his mattress. cautiously, he steps experimentally in the darkness.

while his room is  _his room_ , it was still much of a danger zone as everywhere else in this shitty household he resides in. and knowing by the state of his door, who knows where those pesky sharp nails are poking from his wooden floor are?

he manages to reach the closet, nudge open the sliding door and blindly yank off one of the sweaters from the metal hangers. he pulls the oversized sweater over his form and makes an exit into the hallway with hopes to discover where the aroma of death was coming from.

the search was very short though. his nose directs him to the left of where he stands, finding one of the rooms at the end of the hallway is brightly lit while the rest is dark. there is no hesitation when he approaches the room. chan pushes open the door and squints when the room's bright light attacks his bleary vision. he waits for a few moments, allowing his vision to adjust to the lighting before he shuffles further inside to the wider room awaiting him.

sure enough, when he reaches the end of the doorway, the stench of rotting flesh smacks him right in the face and invades his nostrils.

"morning, chan," greets a silky voice. 

the boy turns his head to see the person he was expecting to see. 

hong jisoo was definitely a sight for sore eyes, one of the few flowers in the meadow of wilting weeds. however, such words only extended to his appearance and gentle composure - neatly combed brown hair framing an oval face, brown eyes that crinkled when he smiled and winged with eyeliner, a thin nose and distinctive shape of lips. yes, pretty.

however, having a bunch of bloodied surgical instruments piled on one metal tray, another tray holding an assortment of pink organs and a gloved hand shoved deep into a torso of a rotting carcass would make anyone look away from that pretty face.

(let's just admit, chan isn't 'anyone.')

"hey jisoo," chan mumbles, tearing away his gaze from the carcass displayed on the surgical table to look at the man, "did you just arrive home?"

jisoo hums, moving his hand within the corpse's torso in search for something - surely, another organ, "no, i returned a few hours ago but you were asleep by then."

chan nods, shuffling a bit closer until jisoo looks up from his work to shoot him a warning glance. as a result, he takes a few steps back until jisoo is satisfied, resuming his search for the lost organ in the pool of crimson developing in the torso.

"are you harvesting for another job?" chan asks although the answer is usually the same.

"yeah, as always. still don't know what these guys want to do with a dead man's gallbladder, but whatever," jisoo snorts. finally, he is extracting his hand from the body, pulling out the specified organ with a winning smile.

"how much are they paying for the organs?"

"why are you being nosy this early in the morning, chan?" jisoo chuckles in amusement, more so when he spots the embarrassed pink that colors chan's cheeks, "they're paying us enough to pay our bills for this month, i'm pretty sure."

chan's eyes gleam in awe. he says excitedly, "no one's paid that much before!" 

jisoo frowns when he sees it, "hey. don't look so excited!" he pulls off his blood soaked latex gloves off of his hands by the bottom and throws the pair into the nearest quarantined trash can. "seungcheol and i make more money than what we're earning from them with our normal jobs."

the boy's excitement deflates. dejected from the light scold, chan nods in understanding. he bites back the urge to remind the older,  _this_ is  _your normal job_. at least, in this household, this is what it was.

the older man's expression softens when he looks again at the teenager. although it wasn't really the place for it, he leans over the bloodied table and inquires, "did you eat already?"

brows furrow, "no. i came straight here when i smelled the blood."

"like a bloodhound or those police dogs seungcheol comes home with sometimes," jisoo sighs, hanging his head, "i'm guessing soonyoung has been teaching you that kinda stuff. it's a shame."

he shakes his head, "i didn't learn it from soonyoung," jisoo's eyes flash when he looks up at chan, whose face was blank and hollow of scrutiny, "it's just a thing you get used to when you're living in this kind of household ... like when you wake up many times to the same alarm in the morning? your body adjusts and makes sure you wake up early, whether early or on time. it's also like when normal people wake up to the smell of bacon and eggs being made? your body is hungry and responds to it, waking you up."

a pause.

"it's just adaption and stimulation, i suppose."

chan blinks and lowers his gaze to the decaying body on the table, examining it only now. 

male, obviously because it has been stripped naked and bare on the table. perhaps late 20s to early 30s. death by blunt force trauma to the head. (he wonders if jisoo was planning to steal the brain trapped inside the skull as well, but thinks  _maybe not_. there was a chance that the fractured pieces of the skull embedded itself into the organ. it would be a waste of time.) he rules it as a suicide or premeditated murder, one acted from behind.

"stop profiling it. this isn't criminal minds and you're not in the fbi."

bewildered like a deer in headlights, chan looks up at jisoo. his lips were quirked in a crooked smile and the corners of his eyes crinkling. his smile veiled the melancholy glistening in his eyes.

"mingyu isn't awake yet so you'll have to wait before you can eat something edible," jisoo muses, "so how about you go visit the girl in the basement, hm? i'm sure she could go with someone to talk to."

chan shakes his head enough that his black bangs falls over his eyes, obscuring his vision slightly, "all she does is scream and plead for me to help her ... it's kind of weird since i'm sure she knows i pretty much helped lured her to hyung ... but there's no use talking with her anyways."

"it's because she's scared, you know. wouldn't you be if you were in such a situation?" 

for a normal person to be asked, they would have answered yes. they would be scared, screaming until their vocal chords were raw and limbs were weak from torn muscles. however, chan takes pride in knowing that he is not _anyone_ or  _normal_.

he answers with a shrug. jisoo looks at him with incredulity but says nothing. in fact, he must agree.

"besides, soonyoung gets mad when i go down there without permission. she's  _his property_ after all."

"but he likes  _you_. he wouldn't mind as much as long as its you."

chan remains quiet. it's a fact he knows very well. it causes an image of the smiling man to flash in his mind.

"she's been quiet the past few days, though. you should go check if she's already dead out of malnutrition ... or if her spirit's just broken and has finally come to terms with incoming death."

canines gnaw at the flesh of his lower lip. jisoo shifts so that he was leaning against his elbow for support, watching as chan turns and walks off into the doorway, giving a small wave of his hand for 'see you later' before escaping the bloody surgery room. he closes the door behind him with finality, knowing jisoo wasn't going to come out any time soon anyways.

 

 

chan knows a lot of things about kwon soonyoung. 

like jisoo, soonyoung is beautiful, but his crooked mindset and oddness in his exuberant exterior is something you could detect from miles away. his eyes are weirdly shaped, looking like the hands of a clock reading 10:10 and smiles so wide his entire face could split.

he smiles jovially majority of the time, but when he is serious, fear is something to feel.

with the people living with him, he is sickly affectionate.

especially with chan.

when it's chan - his voice, regularly loud and excited, is quieter and spoken with a starry eyed dreaminess. as he did with everyone else, he gives hugs and kisses. if it's chan, his grip is tight as if he's afraid to let go and presses sloppy, feverish kisses with passion on his cheeks and lips until they're swollen. he likes to sleep alongside him, mouthing constellations into chan's neck and tracing pretty images into his side.

(with soonyoung, chan isn't so sure if he should call this a relationship or _really intense friendship_.) 

he's freshly dropped out of college but the school never cut off his id so he still trapises around the school often. his charismatic personality wins him many, diverse friends. chan has seen them and he feels a little sorry.

they'd never suspect that he likes to use the high school boy he likes to make out with to lure in pretty girls from the campus, kidnaps them and hides them in the dirty basement of their house.

it's always pretty women - student or teacher - from the college (or somewhere else public for an occasional change) he takes. sometimes, chan wishes it would take a man for once because he can't sleep some nights with the chains loudly rattling and screams resembling a banshee pleading for somebody at night.

they always lose their spark at some point, though. it's the nights he sleeps peacefully and blissfully.

"if you're dead, soonyoung is going to be mad," chan murmurs sadly as he descends down the stairs to the dirty basement.

when they die under someone else's hands that isn't his, a certain coldness always followed soon after. he has never seen what happened because jihoon always pulls him away before he could, but it's probably bad.

he flips the light switch on the way down. the light is dim, but bright enough to reveal the collapsed figure of the woman of the week on the floor. iron encircled her ankles and chained her to the wall.

chan stares from his distance, the bottom of the basement staircase.

she's not dead yet. he hears her faint, shuddering breaths and sees her body rise and fall with each inhale / exhale. it's good. it means no wrath will be unleashed on this very day.

he takes a seat on the final step of the floor, never taking his eyes off of her. he slides his hands into his sweater's pockets.

in the neighborhood he lives in, there is no sunrise in the morning so there is nothing else to watch except this lone victim, suffer in malnutrition and torture.

he hopes mingyu wakes up from his slumber soon. (he wishes mingyu was like him and woke up to the smell of blood too. it would be easier.) he wants breakfast and to go to school already.

today is just another day.


	2. burn it into ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the entire freakshow is introduced.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so for now, there isn't really a plot.  
> but for now, i am establishing chan's """"""daily life"""""" i guess you can say and fill in some holes.  
> HAHAHA SO FUNNY STORY  
> we had a tornado warning today in the middle of class so we had to do tornado protocol right ?? EVERYONE WAS FREAKING TF OUT THAT IT STARTED TO FREAK ME TF OUT AND I WAS LIKE.... LOWKEY PANICKING BC I HAVE A DOG WAITING FOR ME AT HOME, AN 18-YEAR OLD KOREAN DANCER BOY FROM A KPOP GROUP I STILL HAVE YET TO MEET AND DO AGGRESSIVE HAND HOLDING WITH AND STORIES TO FINISH.... so yea, i survived school and tornado so here we go

_"why can't you do anything right?!"_

_a young boy, no older than 10 years, hangs his head at the awful words. however, his face is blank and devoid of emotion. it reads, 'this isn't anything. i'm used to it.'_

_the young boy refuses to falter even when a hand lashes out to hit his skin and pull painfully at his hair. he balls his hands into fists and chews on his lower lip to withstand the abuse._

_"i prayed for a good child! a beautiful child that i would be proud to call my own! but this is what i get - how could god give me you!?"_

_with his head still hung low, he narrows his eyes at the words but his lips quirk in slight amusement._

_a long time ago, he used to believe in god as well. he prayed to him every night at the altar in the attic, asking him why he did he have to be birthed to a couple that loathed him so and allowed him to be subjected to child cruelty instead of familial affection. he doesn't remember when he stopped praying._

_he knew it was when he realized that no matter how much he prayed, he would receive no answer._

_god never answers. he never listens._

_perhaps that is why his mother did not receive the ideal child they wished for._

 

 

chan's body jolts to a hand shaking him incessantly by the shoulder. the sudden sensation causes him to abruptly jerk away from the hand, resulting in slamming his elbow into the wall. a sharp pain runs up his nerves and he slaps a hand over the bone to rub it.

he blinks wildly, eyes adjusting to the odd dimness of the room. ah,  _right_ \- the basement. he doesn't remember falling asleep, but he would believe it if he did.

he turns his head to look at the "attacker" and relaxes when he recognizes the tousled tufts of cotton candy pink hair within the darkness. 

"jihoon hyung ..." chan sighs, leaning his body against the wall, "i'm sorry ... you surprised me."

jihoon is knelt beside him on the descending staircase, almost looking as if he was crouching in a ball form. even in the dim lighting of the basement and under hooded lids, his dark eyes glisten like lights of their own. his nose wrinkles and pink lips purse into a thin line to express his displeasure.

the man pulls up his hands, shakes his sleeves down to reveal his hands and signs in rapid succession - _you surprised me first. you're know you're not supposed to be down here. much less sleeping here._

a quiet chuckle escapes from chan's lips, "yeah, i know, but i thought ... hey, why not? i have nothing else to do." he intentionally omits the part in where jisoo suggested for him to visit because he doesn't want him to get in trouble for his impulsive decisions and receive a lecture about how jisoo's word is not law. no matter how much a christian man he is.

_you could have went back to your bunk and slept in your bed._

"didn't occur to me at the time," chan smiles innocently. jihoon's glistening eyes narrow, but he signs nothing more over the subject.

_is she still breathing? dead?_

chan glances over at the softly breathing figure in the middle of the basement. he shakes his head.

he looks back at jihoon and notices how his face scrunches in vague disappointment. he stares ahead at the victim lying helplessly on the floor, brown eyes far from earth and lips slightly parted. chan thinks he might speak, but he shakes his head and turns away.

"i feel kind of sorry for her," chan admits, observing how jihoon barely twitches at his words.

however, jihoon does narrow his eyes and glower at him.

_why would you feel that?_

jihoon knows multiple ways to vocalize his disappointment and incredulity without speaking.

"i'm not sure ... she just ... she doesn't deserve this. what did she do, aside from standing there in the middle of hyung's old college campus and minding her own business? she didn't do anything to warrant a kidnapping and later ... death ..."

a cold silence settles between the two boys. chan, slightly intimidated by the stare jihoon was giving him, fidgets awkwardly in his spot beside the wall. his heart pounds within his ribcage, nervously and painfully. (jihoon's piercing stare just had that effect.)

eventually, jihoon shakes his head dismissively, enough that his cotton candy pink hair falls over his eyes. quickly, he signs -

_mingyu made some breakfast. hurry before seungkwan and hansol wake up._

chan nods his head and pushes his body off of the stair step to stand. jihoon follows his movements, standing straight to his full height - a cute height of five foot five - and allowing his giant sweater to extend over his thighs.

the older inspects chan from head to toe and scowls when he is reminded by the two inch height difference shared between them. chan notices it and smiles winningly, earning him a gentle swat to his arm. 

(chan knew that if he wanted to, he could hit harder. much harder. yes, cute and pink and swallowed by his sweater, but looks is obviously deceiving.)

the narrow staircase isn't meant to allow two to ascend or descend side-by-side, but the two make it work with their slim statures. by the time chan's foot falls onto the fifth step before the entrance, his ears catch an agonized cry in the basement below.

"so-someone ...  _help me_ ...  _help me_ ..." 

if the staircase wasn't so narrow, he would have whirled around to listen. he doesn't, though, because he would knock jihoon down with his shoulder in the process. 

instead, he glances at jihoon to see if he heard the cry too. jihoon's face is perfectly blank, swept clean of any accessible reaction - meaning he definitely heard it.

jihoon lifts his hands up to sign,  _come on. we shouldn't stay here any longer._

and with that, jihoon grasps chan by the forearm with painful strength and drags him up the remaining steps of the stairway. he shoves him back into the hallway, now illuminated by thin rays of light peeking through the windows, and shuts the door behind them.

even from where they stood, the woman's cries could be heard.

chan's heart clenches when her wails become louder and clearer thru the wooden door.

jihoon scowls at the wails. he huffs and darts in the direction of the kitchen. 

chan cants his head, trying to hear beyond the screeches of the woman underneath the floorboards. his ears perk at the sound of the kitchen utensils being handled and the television blaring (at an alarming volume since he could hear what is playing, word for word).

the young boy gives a single glance back at the basement door before sighing, shaking his head in remorse and padding softly after jihoon into the kitchen.

on the way, he can't help but think it would be easier if the woman simply lost hope.

 

 

thankfully, seungkwan and hansol are not around when chan enters the kitchen, so he is free to take as much as food as he wants from the table. it was only pancakes and bacon today but going starving. 

"morning, hyung," chan greets hurriedly, zooming to retrieve a plate of food. he never knew when seungkwan and hansol might pop up.

mingyu, presumably tired from waking up only recently, clicks his tongue irritably at chan's hyper behavior, but doesn't turn away from the stove to reprimand. instead, he just flips the remaining pancake batter on the pan and grumbles a half-hearted "mornin'" in reply.

jeonghan chuckles warmly as he scrubs down the remainder of the dishes situated in the nearby sink, but is reduced to grumbling as well when a glass slips out of his grasp and clatters noisily against the sink bottom. seungcheol, the only one situated at the dining table, stifles a chuckle as he sips his coffee.

with an entire plate of pancakes caked with syrup and bacon taking the remaining space, chan wobbles right into the living room.

junhui, minghao and jihoon are sitting comfortably on the three-seated couch. junhui and minghao sit with their legs stretched out while jihoon leans against the armrest and extends his legs over the two chinese males'. none of them seem to be paying any avid interest in what is blaring on tv, with their noses shoved against the screens of their phones and all.

minghao is the only one who looks up from his phone to see chan come in with the plate full of pancakes and bacon. 

"i hope that's for all of us," minghao jokes lightly.

"i have been going weeks on cereal with no milk because hansol and seungkwan kept taking all the damn breakfast," chan deadpans, holding the plate possessively to him, "this is all mine."

minghao holds up his hands in surrender, but is still smiling. beside him, junhui snorts, "inhale those pancakes and bacon, kiddo. live the dream."

without looking up from his phone, jihoon raises a single, rebellious fist in emphasis. it earns him a warm smile from junhui and a fist bump from minghao.

before chan could open his mouth, the loud sound of a door opening and slamming close echoes throughout the house. in minutes, a man with black hair swept over his tired eyes and an irritable expression to match the overall dark attire strides into the living room.

"glad you could join us, wonwoo hyung," chan greets with a small wave. 

wonwoo only replies to the boy with a grunt. his eyes fixate on the plate of pancakes and bacon in front of chan.

"mingyu made a decent breakfast for the first time in weeks, huh?" he snorted.

chan cuts a set of triangular pieces off of his pancake and shrugs his shoulders, "he always makes good breakfast. you're just never out of your room to see for yourself."

"true," wonwoo agrees before escaping into the kitchen.

"morning, ya neet!" chan hears jeonghan chirp from the kitchen.

"it's _hacker_ , get it right!" wonwoo barks irately, earning a melodious chuckle.

soon after wonwoo's departure into the kitchen, jisoo calmly trots in as if he does not have a copious amount of blood on his clothes that make him look like he took a bath in ketchup. he flashes those in the living room with a polite smile and enters the kitchen as well.

no one in the living room comments on the putrid smell following right after him. (chan, eating his breakfast complacently, wrinkles his nose and junhui scrunches his face in mild disgust though.) 

"yah, jisoo! don't touch my pancakes with those hands! wash them! actually, take a 24 hour bath because you reek like hell!" mingyu exclaims indignantly from the kitchen.

"didn't know hell had a scent to identify with," minghao mutters to himself, redirecting his attention back to his phone. 

"seokmin hyung and soonyoung hyung aren't here?" chan asks thru a mouthful of pancakes.

"nah," junhui shakes his head, "dunno where they went. haven't been back since yesterday night."

"they're probably robbing a bank or something," minghao supplies, "yknow, get some extra ka-ching unless seungcheol or jisoo's job goes under."

jisoo is comes out of the kitchen, frowning like a kicked puppy. he gives minghao an exasperated glance before darting back into the hall.

"i think he heard that," junhui whispered to minghao as if it was a secret.

"good," minghao snorted.

after almost an entire half of an hour, chan is 3/4s finished with his breakfast. wonwoo emerges from the kitchen with a steaming mug of coffee. without so much of a word or glance at those in the living room, he disappears in the hallway. moments later, the sound of a door opening and closing comes.

"i think thats the longest he's been out of his room for a while," junhui comments observantly, "probably not gonna come out of his super techy closet for another week or so."

jihoon, who has set aside his phone to take a small nap, signs - _he's already out of the closet._

chan cracks a smile with the last crumbling pieces of his pancakes and bacon shoved in his mouth.

 

 

by the time chan swallows his last mouthful of breakfast and cleans up his plate, everyone has practically departed the general area.

jihoon had fallen back asleep and was carried back to his room by junhui.

minghao left to return to his room, possibly to sleep some more.

jeonghan and mingyu have disappeared after being in the kitchen.

wonwoo is probably not going to come out of his room unless he had to urinate or get another cup of bitter, black coffee.

jisoo is probably taking that 24 hour soaking bath mingyu screamed at him to do after seeing him in all of his grotesque glory.

he didn't know where the hell seungkwan, hansol, soonyoung and seokmin were, so who really cares?

he checks the overhead clock in the living room to discover that it was minutes before the bus to school was scheduled to arrive. even if he were to rush and get ready, he would not be able to catch the vehicle in time. as much as he didn't like school, he knew of the general importance of it and forced himself to go everyday anyways.

gloomily, he soullessly sits on the couch with his face buried in his hands.

seungcheol, being the only one who hadn't left, passes by the couch before backing up to stare at the soulless boy in confusion. his gaze darts from the overhead clock to the boy then to the clock again, a repetitive cycle until he realizes what chan's crisis was.

"you realize you're late for the bus, right?"

chan only whines a series of incomprehensible distressed noises in response to seungcheol's inquiry.

seungcheol's brows raise, "and that if you're late for the bus, you're going to be late for school?"

cue some more incomprehensibly distressed noises.

"r _iiiiii_ ght," he's smiling now. he approaches the boy and swats his shoulder gently, "hey, i'm on duty today so i'm heading to work soon so maybe if you hurry and get changed, i could drop you off at school on the way?"

it takes a moment or two before the man's words finally registers and chan peeks from between his fingers, looking up at him curiously, "really? you'd do that? but isn't the station on the other side of seoul?"

seungcheol shrugs his shoulders, "then i'll just be late. all of us except jisoo and me dropped out from our education, so a bunch of us be damned to keep you from doing yours just because of ... you know."

however, chan is barely listening to his short monologue because he's practically launching out of his chair and running to his bunk to get ready to which seungcheol simply shakes his head in fond exasperation. the things he does for this kid.

 

 

the ride to school is uneventful, to say the least.

whether it is on the bus or in a police car, it is the same everyday. he sees the same sights everyday. from the same trees to the same buildings to the lights to the same plastered **missing** posters on the walls.

 

 

the school bell rings at the end of the day and students are jumping out of their seats to reach the entrance. chan takes his sweet time, resulting in being one of the last ones to walk out from the front.

waiting in front of the entrance of the school was a simple black car, windows tinted to keep you from peering directly in it, waiting patiently. he approaches the car and tugs on the passenger door handle, opening it.

"sup kid," mingyu greets from the front. in comparison to this morning, he is much more calmer and alert.

"hey channie," jeonghan says sweetly as chan slips into his seat and closes the door beside him, "how was school?"

"hey," chan smiles, "it was okay."

mingyu breathes a tired sigh as he pulls the car into ignition, backs the car from its park on the curb and starts to drive. the car moves so smoothly under mingyu's control that chan doesn't notice they've merged in with the road until he peers out of the tinted windows.

"anything worth sharing?" mingyu presses.

"nothing important. it was the same."

they meet skeptical eyes in the front view mirror.

"what? this isn't some support group," chan scoffs.

jeonghan glances back at him. despite the vague incredulity that shines in his brown eyes, amusement blossoms on his expression and he is stifling his chuckling. from the front mirror, you could see mingyu's lips quirk in amusement at the information as well.

"we're far from a support group."

chan nods his head. that's what he thought.

 

 

"hey, hansol, look at these!"

"kwan, seriously - we need to get back or else jeonghan is going to whoop our asses-"

"he won't! just come here and look!"

hansol, a young half korean american boy, rolls his eyes and walks back to join his chubby cheeked best friend, seungkwan. before he is given the time to vocalize 'what am i looking at,' seungkwan grabs his arms and turns him around so his vision is filled with the countless of missing poster signs plastered on the wall.

his annoyed expression immediately exchanges with a darker look as he examines the missing posters on the walls.

pictures of a blank faced young boy, obviously taken from an early yearbook, is printed across numerous of posters. underneath the printed photo is red, bold text reading:

_MISSING._

_have you seen this boy?_

_lee chan._

_17 years old._

_5'7" ft._

_was last seen on december xx, xxxx - asleep in his bedroom._

_if you have any information or know of his whereabouts, please contact -_

"can you believe it took them an entire year to put these up? talk about not being in a hurry ..." seungkwan snorts.

in the sky, the sun moves from its position, its light creating a shadow over the boy's eyes to match his bitter smile. from beside him, hansol's throat vibrates in a guttural growl. he shoves his hand into his jacket pocket, brandishing out a single lighter.

"not to mention, is this a picture from when he was in elementary school? says a lot about them, not having a recent picture of their own kid," seungkwan spits, words dripping with venomous poison.

hansol pops off the lid of the lighter and flicks his thumb over the gear. a single, miniature flame bursts from the gas leaking nozzle. without warning, he tosses the entire lighter against the wall so that the oil chamber shatters and splatters over the posters. on contact, the posters erupt into dancing flames. standing too close, the heat licks their cheeks and voraciously eats the paper until the entire wall is covered in its entity.

seungkwan's bitter smile is replaced with a new one, shining something akin to pleasure and/or mirth.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hap birth mingay even though this chapter no way involves him really
> 
> im sorry it took me nearly 2 weeks to write this and it isnt even that good lmao

**Author's Note:**

> i'll make an end note somewhere to clarify what everyone is at some point lmao  
> will there be an end to this collection? maybe lol
> 
> kudos and comments are always appreciated !!  
> personal tumblr: http://dinohs.tumblr.com


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